memories of my mother

Childhood is like an old book you can barely remember. you recall the plot but not all the scenes. It’s foggy and elusive and the memories that stand out seem really significant because there's only a handful of memories that remain full narratives.  

I laid in bed this morning thinking about my mom.
My mom and her sailor mouth and her skintight body suit with purple flowers that made me think she was the prettiest woman alive when I was a kid .

I remember my mom always worked and she was always busy.

Too busy to play Barbie’s when she got home from work and when I would hand her one and ask her the Barbie’s name she would always reply “puddin' Tane, if you ask me again I will tell you the same”

I don’t remember playing Barbie’s with her.

I do remember one day I was sick and couldnt go to school.

she brought me to the baby sitters house and when she opened the door to drop me off there was a living room full of guys sleeping.

I remember feeling afraid and not wanting to stay.

I remember her scooping me up and telling that woman there was no way she was going to leave her daughter there with a bunch of men sleeping in her living room. not to mention the fact that the house smelled like shit.

She called off of work that day to stay with me.  

She probably made me chicken noodle soup out of the can.

She made me feel safe and protected.

I knew as long as my mom had anything to do with it she would never let anyone hurt me even if it cost her something.

My mom is in her 40’s now. She complains about her body a lot. She said to me this week that she never looked like "that". And I knew she was lying.

And when I look at her I don’t see the complaints of a body that doesn’t cooperate with her age, I see a woman who stands her ground, who is a fierce momma lion ready to eat anyone who would threaten my safety. I see a firecracker that has complex emotions. I see a figher who, from years of  needless and undeserved hurt has built up walls of protection that sometimes, she will let me into. I see a woman that made it her life’s work to make sure that I didn’t have to build those walls. I see a woman who is not just a mother, not just a wife, but an interesting, quirky, hillarious, creative, and shrewd person. And for all of those things and for all the things I dont have the words to say, I think she is beautiful.